In Your Head
by eclecticxdetour
Summary: Written for Shan-Shan22 WINCEST of the SamDean Persuasion Rated M for Extreme SLASH Summary: Sam and Dean are temporarily cursed with telepathy.


**Warnings: **telepathy, first time, rimming, barebacking, bottom!Sam, use of endearments, schmoop

* * *

"I could really go for a double bacon cheeseburger right now."

"You want me to drive down to the diner and pick up dinner, then?"

"What?" asked Dean, turning his attention from one of the tomes they'd borrowed from Bobby to look at his little brother.

"You just said you could really go for a double bacon cheeseburger so I offered to go out and buy dinner."

"I did?"

"Loud and clear, man."

"Well shit, could've sworn I just thought it," answered Dean, closing the tome before climbing off his bed, "Wouldn't mind getting out of here for a while, why don't we just eat there?"

"Fine by me," said Sam, standing from his place at the card table and pulling on his jacket, "I'm driving."

Dean snatched his car keys from Sam and spun them around his index finger. "In your dreams, bitch."

"Like I'd waste my dreams on the Impala."

"Hey, I'll bet you a hundred dollars there are _tons_ of guys that fantasize about driving my Baby in their dreams."

"What?" asked Sam confusedly, no clue where that came from.

"Don't act like you didn't hear me," said Dean, opening the motel room door and ushering Sam out in front of him, making sure their room door was closed before following Sam to the car.

"You are so retarded."

"Whatever," huffed Dean, climbing into the Impala and leaning across the bench seat to unlock Sam's door. "Alright with diner food?"

"The hell else would we go?"

"I dunno, fast food, I guess."

"Dean, _seriously_."

"What?"

"Stop messing around, man."

"What the hell are you talking about, Sammy?"

"Nothing," sighed Sam, rubbing at his eyes, "I must just be tired. Not paying attention to what I'm saying."

"Get some sleep when we get back, Sam. Ain't nowhere to go for now."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Dean popped in one of his cassettes when they stopped at a traffic light, looking over at his little brother, already fast asleep in the passenger's seat, as he quietly sang along to his music.

"So peaceful when he's sleeping…"

"Don't get all chick-flick on me now, big brother," grumbled Sam, felt his brother's gaze on his face.

"How did you-"

"You may think you're all brooding and hard to understand, but I've always been able to see right through you, Dean."

"…right," said Dean, nudging Sam's thigh with his fist and turning back to the road in front of them when the light turned green.

"Hope they do a good chicken sandwich."

"What is your aversion to red meat, man?"

"What the _fuck_, Dean? Am I really so tired that I'm not filtering?"

"Probably," answered Dean, looking at his brother and offering him a shrug, "I mean, we haven't slept for a day and half."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Think we're both running on empty, kid," teased Dean, smiling when Sam rolled his eyes and smacked him on the arm.

The diner lot was pretty empty when they got there, too early for the senior citizens to get their early bird specials and too late for late lunch goers.

"Don't forget to lock your side," said Dean once he got out of the car. "And don't slam your door."

"When do I _ever_ slam the door? I don't even do that shit when I'm pissed off at you," answered Sam, unsure what to make of the expression that crossed his brother's face.

"Let's just get some food, Sam."

Sam nodded and followed Dean into the diner, smiling at the hostess when she showed them to their table.

"Nice legs."

"God, Dean, she's not even out of earshot, yet."

"What, did I say something?"

"Yeah, you did."

"Alright, sorry. She didn't look offended, though."

"Probably didn't want to be rude so you'd leave a good tip," said Sam, taking a menu from the holder next to the napkin dispenser, "And by tip I don't mean your phone number."

"Wasn't gonna leave my phone number."

"Who said you would?"

Dean frowned at his brother. "You just did. Christ, Sammy, you _do_ need to get some sleep."

Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. After we eat we should both crash for a day or two. Don't have another gig lined up, do we?"

"Not that I know of, no," answered Dean, closing his menu and putting it back in the holder. "Guess I'll get the chicken fried steak."

"Thought you wanted a bacon cheeseburger," said Sam, rubbing his thumb underneath his eye and then looking at Dean.

"I definitely didn't say anything that time, Sammy," said Dean quietly, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, you did, I heard it loud and clear."

"With your ears or in your head?"

"With my-" Sam paused. _Did_ he hear it with his ears or was it like a voice inside his head? "I don't know."

"I _know_ I didn't say that out loud, man."

"What are you saying, then, that I can read your mind?"

"I'm gonna think something and I want you to listen. And keep an eye on my mouth in case I do actually say something."

"Okay," said Sam, swallowing hard, gaze intent on Dean's mouth.

"_Your hair looks really stupid. I wish you'd fix your bangs._"

"Hey!"

"You heard me?"

"Yeah, in my head. But, dude, _really_?"

"Well it does," said Dean, leaning back in the booth. "Need to cover up that fivehead, little brother."

"You're such a jerk," moaned Sam, ruffling his hair with his hand, glaring at Dean when his hair settled over his forehead.

"Maybe you'll actually get some, now."

"Shut _up_. What are we supposed to do about this?"

"I don't know," said Dean, giving their waiter his order when the man came by, waiting for Sam to order, too, before he continued. "Who the hell have we pissed off lately that this would happen?"

"We haven't encountered any witches recently," answered Sam, thinking of anything that could explain his telepathy. "Wait, can you hear mine, too?"

"I don't know, think of something," said Dean, staring at Sam's mouth to make sure his brother didn't actually say something.

Sam took a sip of his drink. "_I hope there are free refills for this pomegranate lemonade._"

"God, Sammy, you _are_ a girl," laughed Dean, splaying his arms out across the back of the booth.

"Well, I do want more of this," answered Sam with a shrug, not phased by Dean's childish teasing.

"Alright, so it's both of us. You think it works outside of you and me?"

"I don't know, try it."

Dean nodded and looked around the diner, eyes landing on a middle-aged man sitting at the breakfast bar. He stared hard at the man, frowning when nothing came to him. "Doesn't work."

"Okay, why the hell would anybody curse us so that we could only read one another's minds?"

"Maybe there's something important neither of us is saying?"

"Like?"

"I don't know, Sammy," huffed Dean, thanking anyone who was listening that their waiter was back with their food.

"Is it something bad about me?" asked Sam with a frown.

"What?"

"You were real goddamned thankful that Derek came over here with our food. What _don't_ you want to tell me?"

"It's nothing, Sam, don't worry about it. Real inconsequential stuff."

"Right."

"Well it goes both ways, little brother. If we're both not telling one another something that means there's something _you_ don't want to tell _me_."

"It's nothing, Dean, don't worry about it. Real inconsequential stuff," repeated Sam. If Dean was going to try to use that shit on him, he didn't have a problem using it on Dean.

"God, this isn't going to go anywhere," groaned Dean. If they weren't going to work together to figure out how to get rid of their unwanted telepathy then they were going to be stuck being able to read one another's minds for god knew how long.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who's being uncooperative," said Sam, dropping the conversation as he dug into his chicken sandwich.

Dean sighed and worked on his chicken fried steak, glad that Sam's mind was blissfully silent.

* * *

"You ready to get out of here?" asked Dean, smiling at Derek when their waiter took their dishes back to the kitchen.

Sam frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I guess." He stood and readjusted his jacket. "_What the hell was that all about?_"

"What was what all about?" asked Dean, setting some cash under the ketchup with their bill.

"Huh?"

"You said what the hell was that all about."

"I didn't."

"You thought it, then," said Dean, cocking a brow at his little brother before following Sam out of the diner.

"I don't know, Dean."

"You do.

Sam sighed and climbed into the Impala after Dean unlocked the passenger's side door. "You smiled at our waiter."

"Yeah, and?" asked Dean, thoroughly confused by the way Sam was acting.

"Nevermind, I don't know."

"Was just thanking him for clearing our plates, Sammy," answered Dean, not sure why he felt the need to explain himself.

Sam nodded, didn't know what to make of the thoughts going through his big brother's head.

Dean dragged his palm down over his face and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back toward their motel. He pushed the cassette into the tape deck, rolling his eyes when Sam sighed.

"_Can't just listen to the radio for once?_"

"Stop thinkin' so loud over there, Francis."

"Sorry. Just want to listen to what the rest of the world listens to once in a while," muttered Sam, sighing again and resting his elbow on the windowsill, chin cupped in his palm.

Dean rubbed his eye with his knuckle and ejected the cassette. "If you can find the top forty, I'll let ya' listen."

Sam smiled and scanned the radio stations, sitting back against the bench seat when he found it.

"_You're lucky I lo—that you're my little brother._"

Sam frowned, sure Dean was thinking something else before he censored his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to focus, though, he didn't hear anything else from Dean's head. Didn't even hear anything from Dean's mouth as they made their way back to the motel.

With food in their stomachs, the Winchesters' only thoughts were on sleep as they collapsed on their beds.

Sam groaned in pleasure as the mattress sank under his body weight. He toed off his sneakers and wriggled on top of the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and curling his arms around it, burying his face in the softness.

"_Like a big puppy when he's tired._"

"Dean, come on, stop thinkin'," huffed Sam, stupid smile pulling at his mouth from Dean's words.

"Sorry, but you _are_ like a big puppy," teased Dean, groaning when he settled on his bed, taking the time to remove his boots and readjust his socks before he lay back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, ankles crossed as he let himself relax.

Sam heard his brother's breath even out, Dean passed out on his side and facing his bed. He smiled at the sight, knew that Dean needed the sleep. He let out a slow breath, eyes falling closed as he, too, tried to get some shuteye.

* * *

"God, _Dean_."

"You okay, Sam?" asked Dean, startled from his sleep, hand going for the knife under his pillow. He quickly realized that Sam was still safe and asleep in his bed; nothing had gotten past their salt lines.

"So _good_."

Dean's brow furrowed. Sam wasn't talking; he wasn't even moving except for the slight movement of his chest, the imperceptible hitch of his hips as he shifted.

"_Yeah, Dean, just like that._"

Dean's eyes widened, brows practically in his hairline. He must have heard wrong; Sammy couldn't be thinking, _dreaming_, of _him_ like that…

"_Suck my cock, big brother._"

Or maybe he could be…

He slid his tongue along his bottom lip. "Sam?" he said again, letting out a breath when Sam didn't respond.

"_Sam,_" he said, in his head this time, breath catching when Sam stilled.

"_Dean,_ please_, man…_"

"_Sammy,_" he said again, not sure if he was penetrating Sam's dream or his headspace at all.

"_Yeah?_"

"_What do you want, little brother?_"

"_Wanna ride you._"

"Fuck," swore Dean aloud, sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest, pumping hard, all the blood in his body rushing south and making his cock swell. He dropped his hand to his groin, squeezing his erection through his jeans.

"_Sammy, wake up,_" he thought, watching his little brother as Sam's brow furrowed, mouth pulling down in a small frown.

"_Dean, I don-_"

"_Sammy, you're dreaming._"

"_Dean, are you-_"

"_Wake up for me, Sam._"

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up, bottom lip caught between his teeth, furrow between his brows as he looked over at Dean.

"What was that all about?" asked Dean, echoing Sam's concern from earlier.

"Dean, you gotta let me-"

"You were dreaming about me?" Dean sat up and scooted toward the edge of the bed, legs hanging over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together as he looked curiously at Sam.

"It's not what you-"

"Answer the question, little brother."

"Yes."

"And what was I doing in your dream?"

Sam's face flushed and he made to stand, surprised when Dean stood as well and settled his hands on his shoulders, easing him back down onto his bed before sitting back down on his own. "Can we just forget about this? I really don't need you to think of me as more of a freak than you already do."

"What was I doing in your dream?" asked Dean again, as if his brother hadn't even spoken.

Sam huffed out a breath and hid his face in his hands, taking a deep breath before he carded his hands through his hair, fingers tangled in the strands as he answered. "You were sucking my cock."

"That all I was doing?" asked Dean, visual making his cock twitch.

"You had," Sam groaned and flopped backward. "This is messed up, Dean. Why do you want to know?"

"Tell me, Sam."

Sam leant up on his elbows, cadence of Dean's voice capturing his attention. He looked at his big brother, eyes on Dean's face, nothing there to give the game away. His gaze journeyed lower, nothing weird about his brother's posture, not tight with tension like Dean was thinking about kicking his ass. He swallowed hard, eyes dropping to Dean's crotch, eyes widening, Dean's cock hard against the zipper of his jeans.

"Dean, wha-"

"Tell me what else I was doing in your dream, Sam."

Sam inhaled slowly, eyes locked on Dean's as he said, "You had your fingers in me."

"In you where, little brother?"

"_In my ass._"

"Say it out loud, Sam."

"You were fingering my hole, Dean," said Sam, moan falling from his mouth as his dick got harder.

"Why, Sammy?" asked Dean, rubbing his cock through his pants.

"God, _Dean_," huffed Sam, dropping his hand over the bulge of his cock, squeezing himself as he watched Dean do the same.

"What were you gonna do?"

"Fuck, I was gonna ride you," moaned Sam, hips jerking as he tipped his head back.

"You want that?"

"Fuck yes, _please_."

"Wanna hear you say it, Sam. Ask me for it."

"Dean, you—_what_?"

"C'mon, Sammy, use that college brain of yours."

"You, too?"

"_What do you think?_" thought Dean, standing up from his bed and crossing over to Sam's, kneeling down next to his brother and leaning over Sam's head. "_Can I?_"

"Jesus, Dean," gasped Sam, curling his hand over the back of Dean's skull and leaning up, crushing their mouths together, tongues rubbing. "_Do you have anything_?" he asked, so glad that he didn't have to stop kissing Dean to ask.

"_Should_," answered Dean, groaning when Sam rocked up against him. "Hang on, Sammy," he said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth before climbing off the bed. He pulled his over-shirt off, dropped it on the floor, and then knelt by his duffle, rummaging in the large pocket before checking the smaller one, humming when he found the small bottle of Astroglide.

"…why do you have that?" asked Sam aloud, watching as Dean came back to his bed.

"Not the first time, Sam," admitted Dean, not looking Sam in the eyes as he said it, hated that he'd done it with some other guy before Sam.

Dean smiled, though, heard Sam's relief in his brother's thoughts. "_Good. At least one of us knows what he's doing._"

"I'm sure you're aware how this works," teased Dean.

"Well, certainly not from experience."

"From porn? Sammy, I had no idea."

"_Had to deal with this somehow._"

"_Could've said something about it._"

"Right, 'cuz I wasn't scared you were going to kick my ass five minutes ago when you found out…"

"You think I'd kick your ass if I didn't feel the same way?"

"_No_, _but I couldn't imagine how else you would have reacted…_"

"_Would've figured something out, Sam._"

"Doesn't matter now," said Sam, fingers curled around Dean's nape as he tipped Dean's head back, latching onto his big brother's neck and sucking on Dean's Adam's apple.

"_No, it doesn't_."

Sam grinned against his brother's neck, hissing when Dean ground down against him. "_Do something_."

"_What?_" asked Dean, knew what he _wanted_ to do, but he wanted to make it good for Sam, to let Sammy control where they were going.

"_Open me up_."

"Fuck, Sam," growled Dean, brushing his mouth across Sam's cheekbone and then finding Sam's mouth, tongue tracing the bow of Sam's mouth before he pressed their lips together, dipping his tongue inside when Sammy parted his lips.

"_C'mon, Dean_."

"_Gotta get you out of these first._" Dean leant back and then dipped forward, mouth finding his brother's, kissing Sam before he sat up and pulled off his t-shirt. "_Get your clothes off_."

"_Jesus Christ, Dean_." Sam moaned, tongue rubbing over his bottom lip as he looked over his brother, Dean's chest and abdomen catching all his attention.

"_Need to do a little more training_."

"No," said Sam aloud, reaching out to touch Dean, pulling his fingers back and looking up at his brother. "Can I?"

"Yeah, Sammy," answered Dean, smiling at Sam when his brother flattened his palms against his abdomen, hands so big Sammy's fingers curved over his ribs and almost reached around to his back.

"_Smooth_."

"_Shut up_." Dean groaned and eased Sam's hands off his stomach. He pressed them over Sam's head, worked his little brother's t-shirt up and pulled it off, dropping it on the floor and then settling between Sammy's legs. He folded Sam's legs up, knees either side of his body as he ground down against Sam, erections rubbing through their clothes.

He smirked and curled his fingers around Sam's wrists, hips rolling, relishing every moan that fell from Sam's parted lips.

Sam groaned, breath hitching every time Dean rocked against him, rough slide of his underwear along his cock making him writhe. His back bowed, surprised by the wet slide of Dean's tongue over his stomach, so focused on the pleasure between his legs he didn't even catch Dean's thoughts.

"_Can read my mind and yet you still flinched_."

"_Was a little more focused on something _else_,_" thought Sam, bucking his hips and grinning when Dean grunted.

"_Yeah, yeah_." Dean sucked a mark against Sam's sternum, licking over the spot before he sat up. He let go of Sam's wrists and planted his hands on Sam's chest, thumbs brushing over Sam's nipples, feel of Sam's hands gliding down his back making him shiver, hips jerking into Sam's when Sam slipped his hands into his underwear, cupping his ass and bringing them harder against one another.

"_Take your pants off_," thought Sam, mouth occupied by Dean's. He squeezed Dean's butt, firm and supple under his palms. "_Such a nice ass, Dean_."

"Fuck you," laughed Dean, hips rolling back into the caress of Sam's palms. He sat up, though and shucked out of his jeans, unbuckling Sam's belt and undoing Sam's jeans before pulling them off, too.

Sam laughed, waistband of his jeans stuck around his ankle. "Need a little help?" he teased, watching as Dean struggled to pull the material off of his foot.

"I got it," mumbled Dean, triumphantly throwing Sam's jeans onto the growing pile of clothes.

"_Mm, yeah you do_." Sam swallowed hard, reaching out and covering Dean's dick with his palm, hot and hard even through his brother's boxer-briefs. He'd seen Dean naked, before, but up close and personal he could tell his brother's cock was _thick_. "Jesus, Dean," he groaned, rubbing Dean through his underpants, looking up at Dean and groaning, big brother's face flushed, pretty mouth open in a loose 'o'.

"_God, Sammy_." Dean shouldered in between Sam's legs again, grinding down against Sam.

"Gonna fuck me?" asked Sam, tilting his hips up, moaning when Dean rocked against his ass through their clothes, thick heat roughly sliding against him.

Dean nodded, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth and then releasing it, not stopping the roll of his hips against his brother.

Sam groaned and pushed at his underwear, breath hitching, Dean moving and taking off his own underwear before Dean pulled off his.

Dean smiled wickedly at his brother, hands sliding along Sammy's thighs.

"_Really_?"

"_Would you let me?"_

"Jesus, Dean, do it."

Dean grinned and dragged Sam's lower body against his chest, legs bent and spread. He kept Sam's gaze and he leant forward, dragging his tongue down from Sam's balls, over his taint and to his hole.

"Oh _fuck_." Sam squirmed, hips hitching. He curled his fingers around his dick, up and down of his fist matching the strokes of Dean's tongue over his asshole.

"_Taste good, Sammy_."

"_Shut up, Dean_." Sam groaned, legs falling wider apart, didn't care about the slight ache in his back, especially when Dean pressed his tongue inside, tip breaching his body, slicking the fluttering muscles. "Come _on_," he breathed, fingers tight around the base of his dick, didn't want to come until he got Dean on his back.

"_Won't make you come yet_." Dean settled Sam back on the bed, legs spread. He crowded against him again, cock slick with precome as he fucked the crease of Sam's crack.

"_Dean, do it_."

"Alright, pushy," said Dean, finding the lube and coating two of his fingers.

"_Can handle them_." Sam knew Dean was contemplating, but he wasn't fragile, had fingered himself before and knew what he could handle.

"Sure?"

"_If you don't, I'm going to_."

"_Really?_"

"Want me to?"

"Would you?"

"You want me to," said Sam with a grin, taking the bottle from Dean and then pushing his brother onto his back, straddling Dean's hips, smirking when Dean slid his hands up and down his thighs.

He squeezed some lube onto his fingers and then rubbed them over his hole, teasing his body before letting out a slow breath and pushing them inside.

"_Christ, Sammy. Fuckin' gorgeous._" Dean watched Sam as he moved, as he fucked himself with his fingers. He took both their dicks in his hand, groaning at the feel of Sam's hot length pressed against his own. He cupped their balls with his other hand, caressing them as he worked their cocks in his fist, hips bucking as Sam moved.

Sam pressed a third finger into himself, breath hitching, stretch making him moan. He curled his fingers, legs shaking when he brushed over his prostate. "_Dean_."

"_Ready, Sammy?_"

"_Yeah, big brother_." Sam eased his fingers free, grabbing the lube and squeezing some out over Dean's cock when he released them. He saw Dean's brow furrow. "_Clean?_"

Dean nodded. "_You_?"

"Of course," answered Sam, spreading the lube over his brother's length, chuckling when Dean gasped.

"Fuckin' cold," said Dean, one hand on Sam's hip when Sam shifted, cock resting between Sam's cheeks.

"_Need a little help there, bro?_"

Dean rolled his eyes and rocked his hips, cock sliding along Sam's crack, head catching Sam's stretched rim. He curled his fingers around his dick. "_Show me what you got_."

Sam grinned and lifted his hips, rubbing his ass against Dean and then pressing down, breath catching when Dean slipped inside.

"Fuck, you're tight," growled Dean, chest heaving as Sam ground against him.

"What were you expecting?" asked Sam, planting his hands on Dean's chest, circling his hips, moaning when Dean rocked up into him.

"Dunno, but you're _really_ fucking tight," breathed Dean, palming Sam's hips, pulling his hips back and helping Sam lift off, bucking as Sam eased back down.

"_Fuck_, Dean," moaned Sam, Dean's dick so big inside him.

"_You know it_."

Sam leant over Dean, mouth pressed to his brother's as they moved with one another, cock rubbing against Dean's abdomen, slick with sweat and his precome.

"_God, yes, there_." He moaned, pressing his face against Dean's sweaty throat, big brother finding his prostate.

"_Good_?"

"Fuck yes, _Dean_," panted Sam, little _uhs_ falling from his mouth, cock hard and leaking against Dean's stomach.

Dean carded his fingers through Sam's hair, tangling them through the sweat damp strands and dragging Sam down, meeting his mouth in a rough kiss, tongues sliding, mouths slick and swollen.

"_Jesus_," whimpered Sam, body tingling. He sat up again, abdomen fluttering, Dean's fingers feeling out every one of his muscles, toying with his nipples when Dean got to his chest. Dean pinched his nipple and he moaned, body jerking.

"_Almost there, Sammy_."

"Me, too," answered Sam, mouth falling open when Dean curled his hand around his dick, tugging at his length as they moved. "Fuck, Dean," he moaned, rocking harder against Dean, orgasm heavy in his belly. "_Fuck_," he gasped, back bowing as he came, thick ropes of jizz splattering hot on his brother's stomach.

"_Fuckin' hot, baby boy_."

Sam moaned, pet-name making his cock jerk, body shuddering as his dick gave one last spurt.

"God, _Dean_," he panted, anchoring himself on Dean's chest as Dean rocked up into him, Dean's thoughts jumbled and too quick for him to sort out.

"_FuckyesSammyfucksoclosethereI'mcoming._" Dean curled his arms around Sam and crushed their mouths together, thrusting deep and letting go, hips jerking as he filled Sam with his orgasm.

Sam went limp against Dean, content to stay pressed against the heat of Dean's body.

"Fuck, Sammy," breathed Dean, pressing kisses all along the side of Sammy's neck, grinning when Sam smiled against his shoulder.

Sam let out a slow breath, brow furrowing, head quiet except for his own thoughts. "What are you thinkin', Dean?"

"Real funny, Sammy."

"No, seriously."

"Can't hear 'em anymore?"

"Nope."

"Really want to know?"

"I think I know," answered Sam with a cheeky grin, face flushed with pleasure.

Dean curled his arms tighter around his little brother. "Love you, baby boy."


End file.
